Norry did. As did everyone else in the Rest, judging by the turned heads and the wincing. "Who is he?"

The air in the Rest has filled with the smell of toasted leather. Ril doesn't know where it's coming from, but it's making his stomach rumble.

"If he doesn't have any better friends, Norry, old pal, I'd say he's about to become our meal ticket."

"Meal ticket?" Norry chuckles. "Big as he is, he still wouldn't last you more than a few days."

"One day, Norry," Ril warns idly. But then he's shouldering his way through the crowd, and it's all Norry can do to trail after.

"What do you know about managing a slayer, Ril?"Ami asks. Her face is red, of course, but it's mostly from scrubbing. This isn't the worst idea Ril has brought home. It isn't even the worst idea he's brought home today.

"What do I know about managing a slayer? What do I know about managing a slayer?" Ril is bellowing already. Ami grits her teeth.

"Yes, Ril. What do you know about managing a slayer?"

"What's to know?" Ril says. "You find someone with a dragon problem. You point a slayer at it and wait. And then you collect. Thirty percent off the top, plus expenses. And we don't put in a single shaved copper."

"When you put it that way," Ami says. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?" Ril gives her a long-suffering look. "Why do you always think there's a catch?"

"Because there's always a catch."

"All we have to do--"

"--And here we go--"

"--is hide something for him."

"Hide something."

"A token, sort of."

Ami puts her hands on her hips. "Token or not, Ril, you only hide something when someone's looking for it."

"Perfectly safe, he tells me. One little drake. Preserved with the best magic. If you can't trust a man named Fearless Arrem, who can you trust?"

Ami has thoughts on that, but Ril's made up his mind. Best to see where it goes. There's always time to be right later.

She checks the tiny drake's corpse in its charred leather sack, then she climbs atop their rickety chair to secrete it in the thatching. Safe as houses, she tells herself. As long as no one thinks to look.

After an hour, Norry's arm was a mess of bruises. After three, he's barely able to stand.

"I think he's ready," Norry grunts at last.

"He still seems a little weak on his--"

Norry's shield splits and falls from his arm. "I think he's ready."

"All right, then. Arrem, come--"

A sound fills the courtyard, like a raw ham droppedatop a pile of boards from a great ways above. "Arrem," the thunder growls from the wooden gate.

Arrem, big as he is, barely comes to the stranger's hip. Still, his face is impassive as he turns.

At first, Ril barely notices the burning smell. The town is full of strange smells. What's a little burning--

"Thatch!" Ril yells when he realizes. "Fire!"

Arrem is still looking up at the newcomer. "Marek." His voice is the grinding of stones. "I should have known."

Marek rumbles again. "My drakeling, Arrem. You stole--"

Westward, in the direction of Ril's house, flames shoot thirty feet in the air.

"You don't think--" Norry says.

But Ril is already moving.

"Yeah," Norry says to his back, "Probably not."

Behind him, Arrem has begun whining, and is currently cowering before Marek's huge fists.

"Fearless," Norry says to himself as the punches land. "Huh."

Ami doesn't want to say she told him so. But she did tell him so.

"An enchanted drake," Ril is saying. They're re-thatching the roof themselves, to save the coin it would have cost for a professional job. The roof will leak when they're done, but a leaky roof is better than no roof at all. "Who would have thought you could enchant a drake to take away fear?"

"Some of the straw didn't burn," Ami says at last, when Ril runs down. "Lannald says he'll bind it for me for half a copper."

Yr. Humble Host

I've been digging in the word-mines for lo-these-many-years, and I'm starting to figure it all out. Starting. Yay. So welcome to my humble online home. Make yourself comfortable; kick off your shoes and dance.